The Halls of Mandos
by seeing-spots
Summary: What happens in Mandos after the fall of Gondolin? Humor and chaos ensues! Based on two cartoonssee the story for the links and credits.


**The Halls of Mandos** by Jessie Syring

**Disclaimer**: I ownnothing related to THE LORD OF THE RINGS. I just play with them from time to time.

**Author's Note**: two cartoons called The Halls of Mandos by Remi J.K. Lupin and Peter Schels inspired this story. My great thanks to them for permission to use their idea for a story of my own. Their web pages at Elfwood can be found here:

http:elfwood.lysator.liu.se/libr/z/i/ziggurat2/

http:elfwood.lysator.liu.se/art/s/i/sidhanniel/thehallsofmandospt1.jpg.html

---T---T---T---T---T---T---T---T---T---T---T---

Ecthelion of the Fountain shivered as he sat on the cold stone bench in the vast marble hall. He knew water was pooling beneath him, dripping from his waterlogged clothing, but didn't care. He merely wanted a blanket or dry clothing---he didn't expect the Halls of Waiting to be so inhospitable. He wrapped his arms about himself and glanced around.

The hall was filled with Elves, many familiar and many not. The faces he did not recognize were mostly gathered on the benches about the hall. Those he knew seemed dazed and uncertain, standing about in confusion. Ecthelion could understand that---it seemed only moments ago he had been battling for his very life and that of his people. Had fought and slain the greatest of all Balrogs. Somehow, the Halls of Mandos seemed a poor reward for a hero.

"And how did _you_ die?" asked a voice. "Not slain in combat, I see, for you are sopping wet."

Ecthelion didn't look up, merely closed his eyes at the memory. "Nay. I drowned in the King's Fountain."

The loud laughter finally caused him to open his eyes and look up. Two Elves---one with black hair and one with brown---were standing before him. Well, barely standing. They were nearly doubled over with laughter. Ecthelion frowned---there was something familiar about this pair, though he could not recall seeing them in Gondolin.

"You find death amusing?" he asked, frowning.

"Drowned," gasped the brown-haired Elf, struggling to regain his composure. He tapped his companion on the chest. "It takes the might of Morgoth himself to kill me and you are slain by the lord of the Balrogs himself and this mighty Elf warrior _drowns_."

The dark-haired Elf, whom Ecthelion now recognized as Fëanor, burst into fresh peals of laughter. "He is more pitiful than that nephew of ours."

Ecthelion rose, drawing himself to his full height. "Indeed, my lord, I did drown. But not before I slew the lord of the Balrogs in single combat, dowsing his flames in the very fountain where I died."

The laughter died abruptly, both Elf lords staring at Ecthelion. Fëanor slumped onto the bench, holding his head in his hands. The other, Fingolfin, sat beside him and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Don't be sad, Fëanor," he said comfortingly. "Anyone could have been killed by Gothmog."

Ecthelion sighed; after more than 500 years, Fëanor was as arrogant as ever. He left the pair, moving among the people he recognized. There were so many, weeping at the shock and horror of the attack and their deaths. He saw Turgon, his king, and let tears fall from his own eyes. He moved on, though, searching for one familiar face. There were many there wearing the colors of the House of the Golden Flower but none had golden hair. Relief swept through him---perhaps Glorfindel had managed to escape with the other survivors.

He found an empty spot on a bench against a wall and leaned back, closing his eyes. He would miss his friend. He hoped his stay in the Halls of Mandos would be short so they might be reunited soon.

"Ecthelion?"

The Noldor Elf's eyes snapped open at that familiar voice. "Glorfindel? They got you too?"

Glorfindel smiled sadly as he sat beside his long-time friend. The golden-haired Elf's clothing was singed in places and he reeked of smoke and blood. "Aye. On the pass of Cristhorn. A Balrog."

Ecthelion's face fell. "Then all is lost."

"Not all. I slew the creature even as I fell---"

"Am I the only one here who _can't_ kill a Balrog?" demanded a loud voice.

Glorfindel looked around, frowning. Ecthelion said, "That is just Fëanor."

"His attitude has changed little." Glorfindel made himself comfortable. "As I fell, I saw the eagles coming so there was hope for the survivors. Idril lived, as did Tuor. And more than I would have hoped."

"That is good. It grieved me to see Turgon here."

"In the end we could not get him out."

Ecthelion nodded and leaned his head back again. "So how do we spend the time waiting until we are chosen to return to earth?"

Glorfindel shrugged. "I don't know. Everyone just seems to be sitting around. But my wait will not be long, I think."

"What? Why do you think that?"

"I died in combat. That is far more glorious than drowning in a fountain," teased Glorfindel.

"I slew one of Morgoth's greatest weapons."

"By pushing him into the water. A child could have done that."

Ecthelion straightened once more. "I did not see you fighting him. In fact, you were nowhere in sight when they broke into the courtyard."

"I had more important duties."

"Defending women and children? Or hiding with them?"

**"ENOUGH!"** That one word echoed through the marble hall like thunder, causing everyone to cringe in fear. An Elf nearly twice as tall as any others appeared before the friends, frowning down upon them with eyes as dark as night. **"I HAVE HAD NO PEACE IN THESE HALLS SINCE THE SONS OF FINWE BEGAN ARRIVING. IF I HEAR ONE MORE ARGUMENT ABOUT WHO DIED A MORE NOBLE DEATH, I WILL SEND THE ANTAGONISTS TO THEIR OWN SEPARATE HELLS. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"**

"Yes, Lord Namo."

"Very clear, my lord."

As suddenly as he had appeared, the Vala was gone and peace returned to the halls. Ecthelion and Glorfindel fell silent, watching as the number of Elves arriving in Mandos gradually slowed to a mere trickle. More were finding seats on benches and just waiting. Ecthelion felt Glorfindel elbow him in the ribs.

"Maybe he'll send you back as a fish so you can learn to swim."

**END**


End file.
